Musing
by Madame Musashi
Summary: One of those fics that get written off the top of your head. Jessie's thoughts as she lies in her sleeping bag one night.


Muse ****

Musing

Some nights I find it hard to go to sleep. Usually it's because it is too cold or the ground is too uncomfortable. But occasionally like tonight it's because I allow my mind to race away, mulling over a thousand things. I think about everything from the twerps to the boss to the future. Ha. Stupid twerps.

I suppose in some ways I envy them. Not as in "I wish I were them", heaven forbid! I envy them in the way that they are still young enough not to have been corrupted by the ways of the world. Ash and Misty, I mean. Brock is old enough to understand. I wish I could go back to that time when a "bad thing" was to have stupidly lost a bright yellow Pokemon or to have missed lunch. Or to be followed by a pair of idiots and a talking Meowth, and to think that they were the epitome of evil. Well we're not evil. Irritating yes - I'd be pissed off if someone followed me around - but not evil. I wouldn't ever harm a Pokemon out of spite, not even in my worst rages. But even at a young age they are having a better time than I ever did. I wish I could have gone on a Pokemon journey with my friends. I wish I had Pokemon and friends at their age. The village where I grew up didn't have many children my age, then when I ran away after the mess I got into at the Pokemon Tech there was no one. Well there was Cassidy, but let's not go there. Bitch. And then there was Adam. I grew up with him, and fell in love with him too. I thought he loved me…

Well okay, I had friends. I meant I wish I had decent, caring friends. But if Misty was my friend all hell would break loose. I've always had a temper, but I was never that bad at her age! I think I was actually still somewhere near nice at thirteen. Actually, she's not too bad when Brock is there. When she's alone with Ash, or was with that awful Tracey she's horrendous. I've never forgiven her for that comment she made when that Scyther sliced off my hair. And as for Tracey, well, they did a good thing to dump him off at Professor Oak's place. And what kind of parents calls their son Tracey anyway? They must have been as big as morons as him, which would explain a lot. Maybe Misty will turn out okay when she's grown up. Maybe she's me in reverse. She'll get nicer; I'll get nastier, if that's possible. As for Ash…he's thicker than two short Slowpoke but I suppose that his heart is in the right place. He doesn't deserve to be a Pokemon Master though. But he will be one, unless his dumb luck suddenly dissipates overnight. Take that away and he'd have been nowhere. We'd have Pikachu and have got on with our lives. He wouldn't have even got into the Indigo league if he hadn't been given half those badges! And what kind of trainer trying to become a Pokemon Master gives their Pokemon away to be raised by someone else? Okay, I accidentally gave away Lickitung. But that was an accident! I didn't want to get rid of her! Wobuffett's great, but he's no replacement for Lick…

Back to Ash…that thing recently when his mother got taken to that tower. To Ash, that was another "bad thing", his mother had disappeared. Well, I'm sorry to sound callous Ash, but on the larger scale of life, it was nothing. Nothing at all. She was gone for a couple of days. My mother has been missing since I was five years old. The official line is that she was killed in an avalanche in the Andes whilst out on a mission. But because her body has never been found, maybe she's still alive out there somewhere. She might have something like amnesia, which would explain why she's never come home. She wouldn't purposely stay away from me…would she? I'm probably wrong about myself. I was a horrible child. That's probably why she put me in a foster home…but I know that's not true. The people who raised me told me that she loved me. I know that she loved me. I loved her. The memories I have of her are fuzzy, but I know I loved her. No, my mother probably is dead. Maybe she's frozen in a block of ice, like a princess waiting to be woken. Maybe someone will find her one day and she'll be like that explorer they found on Mount Everest, mummified.

Stop it Jessie. You're being sick.

I wish I knew for certain one way or the other. I haven't even got her grave to visit. I haven't told anyone about my mother. Not even that she was in Team Rocket. I knew she was in Team Rocket - that's why I was given to foster parents, so that I would be looked after when she was away, and get to know some kind of life outside of Team Rocket. Well, that kind of backfired, didn't it? I didn't realise though just how highly ranked my mother was. Not only that, but she was a legend amongst the members of Team Rocket! I can't even begin to compete with that, though it's not like I don't try. I remember when we were sat talking about various things once during a stay at headquarters. James was looking at the cabinet where great Team Rocket members of the past were honoured. He saw the picture of my mother and laughed, saying that if she had blue eyes and red hair she'd look like me, which would be funny seeing as we had the same surname. Maybe she was a long lost relative? To hide the tears that tried to flood my eyes, I walloped him with a book or something and told him not to be stupid. Maybe I should have told him the truth then and there, but he and Meowth would have probably thought I was joining in the joke. One day it'll come out, but not yet. I'm not ready yet. 

My mother's records gave no trace of my father. I guess I'm probably the result of a one night stand or something. An accident. That wouldn't surprise me. It would only add to the catalogue of disasters that have made me who I am. Jessica Musashi. Jessie. Good old Jess. Chainer Jess. Ha! What a laugh that bike gang was when we were in it. How silly they seemed when we ended back there. At first I didn't notice it, but when they made the twerps honorary members I realised that we had moved on, and they were still stuck in the same old rut.

If you could call Team Rocket moving on. I would rather be earning money the proper way, in a decent job. But when you are low, it is easy to act low. When you are down it is hard to fight your way back up. I will fight my way back up eventually. James and Meowth don't know that I put a small amount of my wages away each month. One day there will be enough to be able to leave Team Rocket and start afresh. Maybe in a couple of years. And if we have any wages left or haven't been fired. But part of me thinks that the Boss won't fire us. He's never really punished us now that I think about it. And he's the kind of man who wouldn't hesitate to sack someone. That's interesting…I wonder why he hasn't fired us? I'm sure that in our own way we are useful to him. People have told me that his mother used to run Team Rocket. That would have meant that his mum would have been my mum's boss. How strange! I must be fated to be tied to this organisation. Maybe the Boss knew my mother…perhaps he could tell me about her or give me access to some information about her that is classified. But I am too scared of him to ever ask, and given my track record, he probably won't feel like doing me any favours.

Unlike horrible Cassidy…she'll get what's coming to her one day. I felt like going to the Boss and telling him what a mistake he made bailing her and Botched Froggy out of jail. What on earth is Froggy on anyway?

But I don't need the Boss to do me any favours. I am strong enough to get through things. I've learnt to hang on grimly no matter what. I've had nothing, so I expect nothing.

You're so cynical.

Yeah, but who can blame me? I had to eat snow as a child to survive. And those winters were colder than an Ice Beam. I wasn't able to celebrate Christmas, my birthday or Princess Day properly. I came so close to winning those dolls. Maybe that wouldn't matter to some people. It mattered to me. Little things become big things to me. It's not helped by my temper. If I hadn't lost my temper and broken my doll when I was seven, that dumb Jynx wouldn't have taken it and I wouldn't have spent the next ten years of my life thinking that Santa was an evil Jynx and hating every Christmas because of it. Fate again. I can't even begin to count how many other times loosing my temper has got me into trouble. Or lost me friends.

Except James and Meowth.

I have known James for so long now. The longest I've been friends with anyone. Even though I am sometimes so horrible to him he's stayed with me. But I am no way near as horrible as that awful Jessibelle. I would never use a whip on him. Whips scar. A mallet might hurt but not for very long. I shouldn't do it in the first place, but I get so angry it's the only thing I know what to do. I guess I'm angry at the whole world. It's not James's fault though. After all, he was there too for most of my disasters. My crisis was his crisis. Look at him snoring in his sleeping bag. Probably dreaming about doughnuts. He turned his back on all that money and easy lifestyle because he couldn't be who he wanted to be. That's something to be admired. I honestly can't imagine being without him now. I don't want to be without him.

Did I just admit I love James?

That's scary. Love is a dangerous word. But I do love James, as a friend. Maybe more than that. I'm not sure. Yes I am. No…I'm not. I've got to stop thinking about this, it's making my head hurt. James would never love me, never mind the fact I act a complete cow towards him, I look like that bitch Jessiebelle. How dare she look like me.

Enough.

As for Meowth…I love him and hate him all at the same time. For all his plotting he has a heart of gold, perhaps even more so than I do. I have a heart of stone. That's the common belief anyway. Mean old Jessie. Jessie the bitch. Couldn't care less about anything except her precious face and hair. She's part of Team Rocket so must have no morals. Sorry people - and Twerps - but you don't know me at all. Nobody does. Maybe I do stray too much into being vain, but a little self-indulgence goes a long way to lifting you after a hard time. Make-up is considered to be a mask, and that's exactly what I wear. It's my protection. Sometimes I wish people would see me for who I really am, but acting horrible keeps them at arms length and that, for the moment at least, is how I want it to be. Even with James. I don't want to ruin anything with him, it's too precious.

I'm only nineteen. I could live until I'm eighty. I've lived only a quarter of my life. I still have time to change, to make things better. I'm still young. 

I'm still Jessie.


End file.
